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“Be less friendly.”

“Don’t make it into something it’s not, Justin.”

“You did that. For someone who’s so concerned with how things will look to everyone else, you don’t seem too concerned about following your own advice.”

“Me telling her she looks nice doesn’t hold the same concerns as you shoving your tongue down her throat. Get control of your stupid-ass jealousy before you create a real problem for everyone.”

He slammed out before Justin had a chance to respond. If it wouldn’t have come across as childish and outrageously jealous, he would’ve stormed after him and decked him. Much as he loved Jordan, there were times he couldn’t believe they were brothers, much less twins.

As he fought his violent emotions, it dawned on him that his rage went deeper than Marley. Jordan had always followed the Blake family tradition of keeping up appearances and to hell with everything else. And as always, Justin was expected to comply, too. He’d fought against that expectation his whole life, though before he’d moved out of the family mansion, he’d always lost.

Even now, he didn’t always succeed. Case in point, his presence here.

He wanted to help, didn’t want to see Hunter Construction go under, but at the same time, it still irked the hell out of him that he wasn’t doing his own thing right now. Worse yet, he was bound by the constraints of what was best for the company.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew he didn’t have any other choice with Marley, but he didn’t know how much more he could handle.

And none of it was getting them any closer to solving Granddad’s murder.

One step at a time, man, one step at a time.

Opening the door between the offices, he went to help with the model. Marley handed him some materials, her fingers brushing against his during the exchange. He did his best to ignore the warmth of her touch and the coolness that followed as she drew away. He focused his attention on the project.

Marley leaned forward to view a small detail, then sat up, brushing her hair back over her shoulders while surveying the entire table. Justin noticed for the first time that her long hair had concealed the snug fit of her v-neck shirt across her breasts. He forced his gaze to her face.

He knew she’d caught his stare the moment their eyes met, but she didn’t acknowledge where his had been focused. Instead she pointed out the next thing she wanted him to work on. A little while later, he heard her make a frustrated noise and looked up to see her gathering her hair at the nape of her neck, her arms raised, shirt fabric straining.

Justin cast a quick glance at Vince to see him engrossed in his work. A pair of headphones emitted faint, distorted rap songs. Satisfied no one else caught the show, Justin snuck another glance as Marley tied her hair into a knot with a few quick flicks of her wrists.

Redirect. Focus.

He made it until after their lunch of leftover Chinese. Then she tried to reach past him for something.

“What do you need?” he asked, his hands full.

“I’ll get it.”

She started around the table. With limited room, Justin backed against the wall, lifting his arms high to give her a few extra inches. It wasn’t enough. She stepped on his foot at the same instant her backside brushed across his fly. He drew in a sharp breath as she shifted off his foot.

“Sorry.”

Then she leaned forward for the paintbrush she’d wanted, inadvertently putting her in full contact with his groin. Before he could do more than dart a glance at Vince again, she’d straightened and moved back to her chair. Oblivious to anything around him, Vince toiled on.

Thank God.

Justin’s gaze went to Marley as he silently let out the breath he’d been holding. She didn’t appear to have any clue as to what’d just happened. In fact, her single-minded concentration was actually kind of irritating. Clearing his throat, he swallowed as much of his desire as possible and redirected…again.

Things worsened as the day went on. The model took shape; the building even more impressive than it appeared on paper, but working with Marley proved to be torture.

An accidental touch here; an innocent brush there; stretching to relieve sore muscles; a pleased smile at their progress; her uninhibited, genuine laughter at any of the damn jokes he suddenly couldn’t seem to stop himself from telling. In his defense, Vince had joined in the conversation and they’d all taken turns with the jokes, stupid and funny.

He didn’t know how he’d make it through the evening after Vince left, but thankfully, Jordan brought in dinner. After a silent exchange over Marley’s bent head—during which the earlier situation was acknowledged and resolved with a few raised eyebrows, the lift of a shoulder and a nod and a smile—the three of them sat down to eat. Justin couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun over a simple meal of subs and chips.

He left the table with a new level of admiration for Marley, only to discover it made everything else that much worse. He walked her to her truck and said goodnight from a few feet away, his hands shoved into his back pockets to avoid temptation.

Watching her drive away, he decided doing the right thing sucked big time.

****

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